The Moments That Change Our Lives
by CavernOfMyHEart
Summary: Ginnevra has forsaken her Weasley name and run away to London. There she meets Draco, and doesn't realize it. What will the young witch and wizard do when they wake up in 17th century England(Purely DG, also AU)
1. Runaway

Hello. I'm Rayne and this is my first story on this account. PLEASE review if you like my story…PLEASE. Thanks.

This is going to be an A/U (Alternate universe) fic, but I'll try to make the characters stay somewhat true to themselves. This is going to revolve around Draco, withsome twists thrownin there. That's all…PLEASE review. Thank you.

Rayne

* * *

**The Moments That Change Our Lives**  
Chapter 1  
_Runaway _

**Prologue**

Ginny stormed out of her room with a bag over her back. She had had enough of her brothers and their _damned_ over-protectiveness. _Who are they to determine who I can date? Hell, they would lock me in my room wearing a bag if they could. Damn them!_

Her mother came running after her as she left the house. "Ginny! Dear! Come back! I'm sure they didn't mean it! They're only looking after you! Give them a break. Ginny!" When Ginny didn't turn around after she begged, her mother shouted. "Ginevra Miriam Weasley! As your mother, I _order_ you to turn around this instant. Stop walking NOW, young lady." Her face was beginning to turn a brilliant shade of crimson.

"I am no longer a Weasley. I renounce you all as my family. I am Ginevra. Just Ginevra. Good bye." With that, she left the Weasley property, and name, forever.

* * *

1 Month Later 

Draco Malfoy was leaving Knockturn Alley when a pretty young girl caught his eye. She was slowly pulling her skirt up her thigh to reveal her long legs. With a smirk and a glint in her eyes, she invited him to join her. "Sir, you seem to be in need of some _companionship_. Can I assist you in any way?" Her shirt was drooping dangerously low.

"Whore, I have no time for you. Leave me be and find some other desperate man to 'assist.' " He shoved her aside roughly and continued on for another few feet, but the whore was persistent.

"Sir, I know I could please you. It won't cost much and I have a lovely room arranged. It will be good for both of us." She adopted a pleading look on her face and pressed herself into him.

Draco tried to resist her charms, but his body had other things in mind. "I see you _do_ need companionship," cried the whore joyfully. "Come, we will _entertain_ ourselves elsewhere." She led him to another small alleyway. The sign read, "Welcome to Naught Alley. May your stay bring joy and peace to you and your body." In a dark liquid, someone had scribbled, "parts," hastily after the "body."

Draco was in shock. He had never seen this alley before in his life. He was one of the most well-known wizards in England, and this common _whore_ was showing him a new place. Well, he would simply have to find more whores then, wouldn't he?

"This way, my dear." The whore led him past beautiful houses full of tapestries and silks. "We won't be going in there. Only truly desperate men would pay _that_ much. You sir, need only the comforts of my home." She led him past smaller, shabbier houses, full of only pillows and empty bottles. In several, men still lay under the sheets, exhausted from their exertions. "We won't be going there either, deary." Next, she led him past the common brothels, full of scantily clad women and un-clad men. At the very end of the alley lay a small, dark brothel. Its sign, barely hanging to its post, read, "Angels of Night, Pleasures for All the Senses."

Inside, they came to a large atrium. Dozens of doors led out from the sides. The woman took him to one and put her key in the lock. They entered and Draco was immediately glad he chose to come with the woman. Her bed was enormous, covered in silks and pillows. She lit several candles that smelled of everything and anything good and sensual. The woman removed her outer coat to show her lingerie. Draco's eyes took in everything and his mind reeled.

"Why don't you just, pull off that cloak and we can get to know each other," she whispered. With that, they tumbled onto the bed and by midnight, they knew each other _quite_ well.

* * *

The next morning, Draco opened his eyes, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. Then it all came back to him. He was in a dirty brothel in an unfamiliar alley with a woman he knew nothing about. "Damn this all. Damn her and damn me. Where the hell am I?" 

A voice to the right of the bed replied, "In the castle of Hogwarts, my Lord."

Draco looked to the place the voice was coming from. He saw a man wearing a long, embroidered coat and knee-length pants. "Holy shit. Who the fuck are you?"

"Sir, I am your manservant, Blaise. Are you well, sir?" The man had a true look of concern on his face and had started to the door.

"Blaise? As in, Blaise Zabini?"

"Yes, sir."

"Holy hell."

"SHH! The king is about."

"The king! What the fuck happened!"

"Sir. I don't know what you believe, but last night, you came here with a woman and she left shortly after the first watch. I believe she was a concubine of your father's."

"Humor me, Blaise. Who is my father?"

The servant began to chuckle. "You must be in a good mood this morning, sir. Such jesting might get you mistaken for the court jester. Your father is the king. King Lucius. Of England."

Draco's shock was almost palpable. "Humor me once again," he said airily, his voice full of disbelief. "What century is it?"

Again, Blaise chuckled. "The seventeenth, my lord."

Draco sank onto his bed in a dead faint.

* * *

At the other end of the palace, another person woke to an unfamiliar bed. She reached over to try to wake the man from the previous night, but found no one. She sat up suddenly and looked around. She was no longer in her room. She was in a small, dark, stone-walled, closet-like room. The door on the opposite side of the room seemed to be the only form of decoration in the entire quarters. She looked to see what she was wearing and found it also wasn't what it had been the night before. She was no longer wearing her cheap lingerie. She was wearing silken undergarments and nothing else. A robe lay on the chair next to her bed, so she reached over and put it on. 

When she stepped into the hall outside, she found another area as barren as her room. She walked down the hall until she came to a larger chamber. A woman stepped in front of her and crossed her arms.

"Concubines are not allowed into the main area of the castle on holidays."

"Excuse me, _concubines_?"

"Yes. You, slut, are a concubine. Now, turn yourself around and go back to your quarters. The men have no need of you on this day." She found herself being shoved down the hall in the direction from which she came. She was pushed into her room and she heard the door locking before she could utter a word of protest.

She began to bang on the door, screaming for help. "Something's wrong! I'm not a concubine! I'mnot supposed to be here! I only wanted to work in the alley until I could save up enough money to go to America! I shouldn't be here! Someone, HELP ME!"

The door was flung open violently, hitting the girl square across her body. She was thrown to the ground. The woman from earlier stood in the doorway, looking fierce. "Why are you screaming, whore? Have we not provided enough for you! Is it not enough that you sleep with the prince, but you also are allowed your own room in the palace!"

"I never slept with a prince. I don't live in a palace. I don't belong here. Let me go!"

"Listen to me. You are a concubine. Last night, June 20, 1667, you slept with Prince Draco of England. You live here. Obviously, you drank too much strong spirit. Tomorrow, you will continue your job at the Solstice dinner. For now, you remain in here until I call for you."

"But what am I supposed to do while I'm in here?"

"I don't know. Whatever you normally do. Sleep, talk to yourself, practice things. Whatever you like."

"Are there other people I can talk to?"

"Well, there are, but you aren't_ allowed_ to talk to them."

"Why?"

"Because you're a whore. I don't have to _allow_ you to do anything." The woman stomped out of the room and locked the door and locked the door once again.

The girl lay on the bed and cried. She cried all her frustrations out until she fell into the merciful arms of sleep.

* * *

Thank you for reading. PLEASE PLEASE review. I know it's fairly obvious where I'm going with this story for now, but I'd still like some feedback. For those of you who didn't understand, the holiday they were talking about was the Summer Solstice. It is celebrated on June 21, and in France, it was represented by a woman riding a horse. (Forgive me if my history is off.) Now it is only mainly celebrated by Wiccans. We celebrate it as a cleansing time and a time to celebrate the sun. French (I believe) only celebrated it as a time of fertility and the middle of the growing season. 

Thank you!

Rayne


	2. Selection

Hey. Thank you for the reviews. I'll try to reply personally to every review, but forgive me if I miss you in future chapters.

Hawk: Thanks for reading. I appreciate the review.  
Lithui: Thanks for having enough faith to read, "another AU." Very cool birthday coincidence too. Thanks

I'll be referring to Ginny with three names. She calls herself Ginevra now, so I'll call her that when no one is speaking. For people who know her, she will be Ginny, but to those who knew the 17th century version of her, she'll be G, at least for a while.

Thank you so much. Happy April.  
Blessed Be.

Rayne

* * *

**The Moments That Change Our Lives  
**Chapter 2  
_Selection_

Ginevra woke in the same unfamiliar bed as she had before. She was in the same stone room, with the same bare furnishings. She saw the tearstains on her pillow and knew that everything that had happened the day before was true.

Suddenly, she heard a harsh knock on her door. "Wake up sluts. The king wants to pick his maiden for the horse ride." Her door was unlocked and a gown was thrown at her. "Put on the dresses or I'll have the stable-boys do it for you."

Ginevra held the gown up and inspected it. It was made of cheap material, but the quality was obviously not the important feature. The neckline was almost low enough to expose her nipples and the corset tight enough to cut off her breathing.

The woman from the day before stood in the doorway and shouted to Ginevra. "Put it _on_, slag!" She ripped off the silk robe and shoved shoes into her chest. "Come into the hall when you need to corset tied." She shut the door and marched down the corridor.

Ginevra pulled the gown over her head. It was a deep green, trimmed with darker lace. It had no sleeves, a sign that she was not a woman of good standing. The neckline showed as much as possible without showing her entire breasts. The corset, even untied, already accentuated and created curves she hadn't had before. Ginevra put on the matching green shoes and entered the hall. There, she saw at least a half dozen other girls wearing dresses of the same cut.

"Ginny!" called one.

"Lavender?"

"Who else would I be silly? That dress looks gorgeous on you. Let me help you with the corset."

Ginevra reluctantly turned her back and allowed the other girl to assist her with her gown. With practiced fingers, Lavender pulled the strings and forced Ginevra's breaths out in force. She spoke without stopping while tying the corset. "Oh, I _hate_ that woman. Some days I want to just smack her." She spoke as if these were the most devious of plans. "I wish someone would just stand up to her and say, 'Ms. McGonagall, we are not sluts. We are well-provided-for young ladies who happen to screw the British royalty.' Ha. That would shut her up. By the way, who do you think will be chosen? It was Pansy last year and I know the prince has a special preference for you, darling. Oh, all done. Can you tie mine now?"

Ginevra never said a word and Lavender continued speaking even while her internal organs were being crushed. Her speech was mostly inane, and all Ginevra could gather from it was that they were the whores of royalty and today the king or one of his advisors would be stopping by to pick a girl to ride a horse in celebration of the summer solstice.

"Oddly enough, G, a _virgin_ is supposed to ride the horse, but, well, where are you going to find one of those in this palace?" She laughed loudly at her own joke and only stopped when she saw that no one else thought it funny.

Ms. McGonagall came back and brought the girls into the large chamber at the end of the hall. There, she arranged the girls in a line, tallest to shortest, which meant that Ginevra was last. "Now, do not speak unless asked a direct question and do not try to seduce the poor man. That is for later tonight. Arrange your dresses how you please, but remember, they are looking a for a _maiden_, not the town whore. Do _not_ move. He's coming."

* * *

Draco woke the next morning in the same bed. He looked to his right and again saw Blaise with a concerned look on his face.

"Blaise, please tell me yesterday was an elaborate joke."

"Well sir, you were rather amusing, but no, it was not a joke. I have an urgent message from your father. He says you are to come to the women's quarters to select a maiden."

"Fuck my father, I need some time in here." Draco was already falling into his part of a spoiled prince.

"SHH! Such coarse language! You are a prince, not a blacksmith. Please, I beg of you, stop cursing. If not for your sake, for mine. I will have my tongue cut out for such language from you. Please." Blaise had his head outside the door looking frantically for anyone who could have heard Draco's outburst.

"Fine, I'll stop my 'cursing,' but you have to tell me how to get to the women's quarters."

"My Lord, surely you know how to get there. You frequent that area almost as much as your father."

"Well, I'm not in the mood to argue. Lead me there."

Blaise dutifully lead Draco to the "women's quarters," and once he got there, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Bloody hell! I was expecting a load of oafs and slags. These ladies are…well, I think I can handle this." He was silently thanking Merlin for his luck. He may have landed in some bizarre universe thanks to that whore's tricks, but at least it was a universe with beautiful women. Suddenly, his eyes fell on a certain girl in the line. She was short, and busty, with beautiful red hair. "That's the woman from last night! You Blood!"

He was cut off by a kick in the shin from Blaise. Apparently, the other man thought he would soon have another reason to have his tongue cut out.

Slowly, Draco gestured for the girl to come forward. She lowered her head and stepped toward her fate."

"He's coming," said McGonagall.

In walked two of the most beautiful young men Ginevra had ever laid eyes on. Immediately she recognized the blonde as two things; one – the man from the night before, and two – Draco Malfoy.

It seemed he recognized her as well because he began to shout, but was quickly silenced by the man on his right. When she was called forward, she knew this meeting could not be pleasant. "Yes Malfoy?"

Ms. McGonagall stormed to her side and slapped her smartly across the face. Her own face was red with anger. That is _not_ how you address royalty, slut. You'll be sorry you ever said that."

Ginevra was lying on the ground, cradling her face. She had suddenly become quite scared out this world and this woman in front of her.

A hand was extended down to her and she took it without thinking. She looked at the owner and saw it was the other man, with darker hair.

Meanwhile, Ms. McGonagall was apologizing profusely to the prince and begging him to allow her to take Ginevra away.

"That won't be necessary. I was actually going to take her. Thank you for your help." He made eye contact with Ginevra and held it until she looked away from his intense gaze. He continued to stare at her until they reached a larger part of the castle.

"You look familiar and I know it's not only from last night. Do I know you?"

"Malfoy, you know me and you've known me for the past 5 years. I'm Ginevra, and up until a month ago, I was Ron Weasley's sister," she said with a more than a hint of iciness.

"Holy shit! I shagged a WEASEL!" Blaise began to run, trying to avoid any punishments that could come to him due to Draco's speech.

"Yeah, well, I don't feel any better. I shagged a ferret, but at least I got paid for it."

"Wait one second here. Since when are you getting paid for sex? Last time I checked, you would have paid a dog to shag you."

" 'Last time you checked?' You've been checking my romantic status?"

"I make a point to know the basic status of most of the girls in school. I won't check on complete cows like Bulstrode, but yes, I do check," he said with a smirk. "Does that make you feel special, whore?"

"You have no right to call me that! I w-"

"I have every right to say what's true. I paid you for sex and you live in a brothel. You are a whore. By the way, you are looking a mite better than when I last saw you. Little Red grew up over the summer didn't she?"

Some girls at Angels did some of it, but yes, I _have_ grown up and that's the reason I was in that filthy place anyway."

"Well, we can continue this revealing conversation later, " he said with a significant glance at her _revealing_ dress, "but I need to get you to the stables. You'll be riding a horse tonight for me. What a treat."

"Why am I the treat? Why did you pick me? Why not the prettier girls?"

"I picked the prettiest girl in the room."

* * *

Thanks for reading. I hope you all liked it. PLEASE review, even if you hate it. I'd love some feedback. You can send in suggestions or criticisms. Just know that I write the next chapter while I'm posting the previous one. I'll try to update a few times a week, but I'm extremely busy. Thank you for reading! I love every single reviewer.

Rayne

P.S. – How long does everyone think this story should be? It can't be too long, but I want to know what everyone thinks. I'm writing this for you guys, so I'd like to know what you want. Thanks.

P.P.S. – There's a bit of a mistake in the last chapter, and, well, in all of this. The story was originally going to happen in France, but I just don't know enough about that…so it became English…that seems more fitting in hindsight. But, my original research was for French celebrations, and I don't know how the English celebrated Midsummer. So, yeah, I stuck with the French celebration in an English setting. That okay with everyone?


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